


Yiff in hell, motherfucker.

by quenive



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Crack Fiction, Doomed Timelines, Everyone is Dead, F/M, a honestly depressing theme tbh, birthday present for a mate, im so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 16:46:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6666439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quenive/pseuds/quenive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More in the collection of doomed timeline shenanigans, where Jade decides Jack has terrorized every living thing long enough. Takes initiative, fights back. In her own way, that is.</p><p> </p><p>Written for Fern, a dancing queen, young sweet and- yeah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yiff in hell, motherfucker.

Sometimes you just have to sit and think. Think excessively, not give your mind any rest for as long as it takes until you get to the center of your issues, and then stomp them to the ground as you always did. But this time, not even difficult brainstorming resolved your numerous dilemmas. The notion alone is a huge fucking understatement, considering everyone you know is either dead or probably lost forever.

You are alone. For the first time in forever, you are not okay with being alone.

Your head is filled with various thoughts, all of them more negative than you ever imagined they could be. It's not something you could help and the rage boiling deep in every shred of your being is just itching, and you mean ITCHING to break free. What would you even do alone, now sitting there on a random rock (though you suspect it's probably a part of an old building or something that came crashing down when shit got real) and observing the messed up battlefield around you? Death and destruction as far as the eye could see, and yours were the only pair hovering over this gruesome sight. The bodies aren't rotting.

Well, they probably couldn't. You... guess chess piece dudes don't really decay? Not even after this much time. It would all be more difficult if your brain was only human, unable to process this much information at once. Luckily, it was merged with one of a first guardian who was coincidentally your loyal pet as well.

Not-so-luckily, the individual who destroyed everything you held dear had this attribute as well. It was actually fun at first, when you think about it. Not that you ever considered his murders amusing, but the way he held himself around you did. Bec was a huge part of him (actually, 1/5 but lets really not go there) and the affection your loyal companion held for you could not remain unmentioned. Even with this murderous asshole, the best thing Bec ever did for you was jumping in that sprite. But when you think about it more, you'd rather have that he didn't.

Jack Noir has a soft side for you, and it is the exact reason why you're alone now and not with the people you care about, be it in death. Suicide is out of the question as well. It wouldn't be heroic nor just, you'd just come back again and again and again. You know this from experience, and you remember each one of your gruesome attempts to off yourself. It is one of the many reasons why you hated his guts, hated even the thought of him, yet you couldn't stop thinking about him. How could you stop, now that he was up to his regular creepyasfuck habits.

It's not strange to see him lingering in the distance around you occasionally. Well, it was at first. Unusual and creepy. He'd never do anything, he'd just loom in the background and observe. Some days he wandered closer than others, though he never really did attempt to make contact. Neither did you. His presence wasn't intimidating, he seemedgenuinely curious about your well being and what you were up to (which was usually sulking in self-pity). Even though he wasn't a threat, it sure as hell was creepy. And lately, it's been bothering you more than usual.

You let your eyes wander throughout the battlefield, gazing up to the illuminated horizon. If you could differ colors, you'd probably see a great splash of red everywhere, but with your current eyes it's just gooey grey. Daltonism is another feature you got from your former guardian, along with a keen sense of smell, two fluffy canine ears replacing your boring human ones, and a whole heap of freaky ass first guardian powers which you leached off of the Grey Sun.  
Staring at the never changing scenery in front, you begin to wonder did he actually succeed in his attempts. Is literally everyone except you dead? Did he in fact commit a genocide so vast, that literally nothing survived? It all struck you as generally impossible, yet you didn't rule out the option. Like Bec, Jack was even more than determined in his intentions.

Jack. There it is again, the same intrusive thought you wanted to push away as far as you could. Whatever happened, your mind still wandered off to the picture of that lunatic covered in blood and gore, his deadly soiled sword raised high and mighty in victory over the ones he destroyed, then returning it back into his own chest and flying away. It sickened you , but you literally could not stop thinking about it.

For the first time in forever, you let your eyes get locked onto the silhouette of the dog/crow/mannequin/squid/chess piece hybrid standing over a few dead bodies in the background. You think about shooting him a glare, but where will that get you honestly? He couldn't care less, and it wouldn't resolve any issues you have with him nor with yourself. You notice he's looking back at you, deep into your eyes for the first time ever. It is because you let him.

The canine part of you was burning up, blood boiling with unspeakable rage as you refused to even blink. Instinctively, he looks away, but you keep your eyes on him and head turned in his general direction.

Jack Noir, a creature so vile and despicable is refusing to keep eye contact with you, because he knows you're challenging him.

It's what dogs do, you guess. While another pup would find this gesture quite rude, a more aggressive animal would indeed consider it a challenge. Which you were at this moment, and you did intend this stare to push any sort ofboundaries you might have had. To your disappointment, Jack declined this like the coward he is deep inside. You begin to wonder why. He is surely able to end you with one fair swoop if you got him pissed enough and refused to fight back. But there he was, turning his head away from you and keeping his eyes onto a carcass beneath.

Instead of discouraging you from keeping up with your intentions, your disappointment just pushed you further. You hop up from the construction you were sitting on, your feet making a small "thump" as they met the tile-like ground. You're not having this. First time you gather up the mental strength to confront him, he wusses out just like that. His ears twitched at the thump your feet made and his head shot up for his stare to meet your person. Even though he was a bit far, you could see (no, feel) his eyes widening at the sight of you getting up, and beginning to slowly approach him. If you didn't know him any better, you'd think it was panic.

For every two steps forward you took, he took one back. The Jack part of him seemed to be up for the challenge, though the Becquerel inside of him wanted to dash. You presume he was having a terrible mental battle with himself as you kept inching closer, fully aware that this was now inevitable. Besides, there's no way you'd even want to back out now of all times, so you kept on heading forward no matter how many corpses you had to walk over.

Because of the uneven pace of backwards going and forward approach, you were in front of him in literally no time at all. He was about a head taller than you, so you looked up, wanting to stare at his cold orbs once more. They reminded you so much of him, yet they were noticeably different combined with everything else this individual is made out of. He attempts to avoid your stare, but to no avail. You don't even glance at the torn up harlequin clothes on hisanthropomorphic animal body, even though it was radiating a strong blood odor, almost putrid. The sword lodged in his chest is almost in contact with your own due to the uncomfortable closeness you were subjecting him to. Finally, he submits once more and takes another step back, wings raised slightly and ready to fling him away whenever they pleased. Not like he couldn't teleport if he wanted to, so this didn't really make sense. Finally, his eyes meet yours, and the panic on his face seems like it evaporated.

You.. you did not think this through as much as you should have.

What were you even thinking? Sure, he'd kill you, but.. would it really be a heroic death if he stopped you from killing out of your own desire? It'll just be another painful experience which will haunt you in your dreams, flashbacks, everything. Though you could feel your mind, gradually changing, you did not back away from the thing you put yourself into. You didn't want to die. Well, you did, but you didn't want him to "kill" you just so you can come back and possibly cry at how miserable you are (you guess you also felt bad for giving Jadesprite so much shit about it, but this thought didn't make sense at the moment because you kind of are her).

You see his hand moving, reaching for his sword, and it's the first time you break the eye contact to glance at it.

The ring. Not even death would crush him as much as losing this precious ring would. Of fucking course. Why didn't you think about this before? You restrain from facepalming in front of the creature, your expression as firm and demanding as before. His hand was on the handle, sliding out the shitty katana from his chest.

You barely keep your hand from shaking as you reach forward and place it on his slightly furred digits. He furrows his brow at you, the lack of reaction from him encouraging you to push your hand further and slide the blade back in. The guy seems... puzzled. By everything. He looks like he wants to fight, yet the relief painted on his face was nothing short of obvious. You almost sigh in relief as well, but it isn't even close to being over.

Your next move takes you both off guard, but you step forward once more and press your whole body onto his. He is warm and soft, like a huge plushy dog toy. You lean your head on his chest, next to the sword, as you wrap your arms firmly around him. You might be disgusted by yourself, but you can't shake the feeling of how good it is to finally hear another heartbeat, to feel the chest of another person rising up with every heavy breath they took, then descending with the following exhale. You let yourself sigh as you try not to cry in the proximity of a genocidal maniac, though it became even harder when you felt two arms coiling around you in a tender embrace. It was softer than you ever expected something from him to be, and you didn't doubt it was the Bec part trying to comfort you in your time of need.

But also, you had a duty. A duty to those whose lives this sociopath took.

You felt like vomiting, even though you didn't have anything in your stomach to vomit out. Food wasn't really important once you went God Tier, nor were the level's clothing at this point. You were in your regular clothes, skirt and a white shirt with an atom symbol on it (though you could swear it was a squiddle only a second ago). They reminded you of simpler times while the God Tier outfit reminded you of the game and all the horrors it brought with it. Even so, your hands slide down Jack's body, feeling the fur that felt dangerously like the coat of your faithful companion. He freezes under your touch and you feel his body stiffening like you just did something unspeakable. And you probably did, actually.

You move back from the hug to look him back in the eyes, challenge still present, though a different kind.

As if he knows exactly what you're trying to do, you feel something brush against your leg and coil around your ankle. It was something you couldn't ignore, yet you keep on looking straight at those two eyes as you feel yet another unusual appendage slide up your skirt and graze your thigh ever so gently. You know exactly what it was and hold back a shudder when you feel his hands sliding to your waist as another pair of mentioned prolonged appendages go up your legs as well.

This frightened you. It was terrifying. Yet still, it was something you couldn't not do. You owed it to everyone, and you'll be damned before you let them down. Well, any more than you already have, that is. His human-like, yet fur-coated hands continue to slide down once they reach the edge of your shirt. There was too much movement on your body to keep track of at the moment, actually. One of the tentacle-like appendages hooked the waist band of your panties, but didn't dare to pull down just yet. Another one was rubbing at your thigh as his hands slid under your shirt to caress the gentle skin of your naked waist.

You wince at this newfound sensation, though you refused to show more weakness as your eyes didn't budge from the sight of his own. You don't want to admit this, nor to yourself nor to him, but it excited you to an extent. It disgusted you even more, but you let your expression remain unchanged.

You saw unclothed chess men before. They lacked genitalia, obviously. There was just a smooth spot between their legs where the genitals would be, and you were a hundred percent sure that the member you feel hardening against your lower body isn't in fact Jack's. It was gruesome to think about as well, it almost brought a tear to the edge of your eyes. You exhaled deeply as he was the one to break the eye contact once more, though this time it wasn't for cowardly reasons. He brought his attention towards his own hands lifting your shirt more and more until you are forced to lift your own arms up for him to slip it off. Carnage and wreckage was around you, not a living soul. You still felt extremely exposed, his eyes were on you but it felt like it was so much more than that.

You gave up on bras as soon as you were alone. They didn't even matter, they were uncomfortable and not at all practical for the solitude you were so drastically forced into. It would be so much better if you had one on yourself right now, but the Jack part of him seemed to enjoy the sight of your fairly small breasts judging by the look in his eyes. Wait, they didn't even... why?

The thought was soon shaken off once his hand trailed up to graze one, and you bury your head deep into his chest just to grit your teeth and pretend you're not enjoying this. He smells like your dog, like Bec always smelled when you felt frightened and would cuddle up with him. His presence always made you feel comfortable, he was always there to protect and care for you and you feel guilty for liking this, so you try to keep your mind off of it. Your plan backfired as soon as you felt a small breeze on your behind when one of his tentacly appendages rubbed you through your bright green panties, simultaneously pulling the back side of them off.

A gasp you were trying to hold back exits you as an intense tingly sensation ran through your body, a slight breeze blowing at your backside since your panties were basically down to your ankles now.  
You understand his gesticulations and step out of them. He throws them somewhere aside, and you doubt you'll be able to fish them out once you're done with this, and if everything succeeds.

You suddenly feel a tilting, falling sensation. Sooner than you know it you're on the ground. Well, he is. You guess his wings look soft and poofy enough to break his fall and make it basically as silent as it could possibly get. But you were on top of him, his tentalimbs coiling around your lower body, thighs, rubbing against you too gentle for it to be painful, but just light enough to actually make it painful. You didn't have time for this, all this needless teasing like you were lovers instead of enemies.

His humanoid hands are still sliding over your skin, making you almost tremble at every graze as you press your chestonto his. He didn't seem to like it, judging by how he's pushing your upper body up in a sitting position. You were basically kneeling at his thighs as his appendages worked on your lower half. It got a little rougher, and you finally let out an embarrassing sound. You feel them. You feel them slipping in and rubbing and invading you in all the right places. Your hips roll a bit, and you get a good look of his member for the first time.

Your hand is fairly small in comparison, but you still attempt to grasp it gently. It earned you a deep breath from him and you shut your eyes, trying to will away every piece of arousal you felt. It is without a doubt that you failed in this. You let your hand made a few solid pumps, your thumb rubbing small circles on the slightly pointed tip, some pre slipping out and making it easier to massage the sensitive area. Needless to say, your moves were uncoordinated and slippy, but he really didn't seem to mind by the looks of it. But even so, he wanted more. So much more as his gestures suggested, his feelers slipping out of you and you suddenly feeling empty and cold.

Not for long, though, as he pulls you forward. You have a feeling you know what he wants and you feel yourself gasp once you feel his cock rub against you. Now, your skirt is hiding most of the action considering it fell over your crotches when he yanked you forward, but you felt his girth, warmth, intensity rough against your opening and you can't stop your hips from rocking forward to get more of the amazingly horrendous sensation.

His tentacles attempt to slide up your arms and hold them into place, but you shake them off with a firm glare at him and he instantly retreats. Amazing enough, he listened, but they were soon back to feeling up every inch of your body, making your skin burn at the gentle yet rough grazes. His hand moves down, under your skirt, and you feel his cock moving. He was adjusting it, and you obliged by sliding your hips upwards and lowering them back.

As soon as the mere tip was in, you let out a muffled gasp and let your head fall down, almost as if it were hanging. You kept sinking down and it filled you up. The movements slow, you were letting yourself adjust, though you kept wondering when will it end. It did eventually, and you sighed once your hips finally connected and you were sitting down. A moment to get your breathing fixed, a moment to let realization of what you are doing sink in.

Then, you rolled your hips upwards and literally felt your stomach turn at whatever the fuck you were experiencing because this is unlike anything you ever felt before. Not even in a negative way, at that. It was just generally weird and disturbing and arousing and great Lord were you ashamed of everything you stand for. Once you were up, you lowered yourself down again and bit your lip in order not to produce another whine. His huffing was getting intimidating and his hands were placed firmly on your waist. It was possible that he decided you weren't going fast enough so he took initiative by gripping you tightly and making you ride, ride like your literal life was depending on it. His moves got quicker, he was basically guiding you to bounce at this point. With every sudden motion, you felt your breathing hitch more and more. The appendages were still restless, going on and on as you rode him throughout the bittersweet pain.

Your hands locked on his, you were holding them as he held you. Sweat was dripping down your body as sensation kept coiling up in every shred of your existence, and you wanted it to end, but you knew you had to do your duties before it did. His breathing was heavy, low growls exiting him every time your bare skin came into contact with his coated hips. You felt his grip on you getting tighter, almost to the point of pain.

He was close.

He was distracted.

Your left hand fiddles with his right one even throughout your pleasurable pain.

It's difficult, it's full of friction, but... You manage.

His eyes suddenly snap open once he realizes what you're attempting and he stops moving you. The hand you're fiddling jerks back, but sadly for him the motion just makes the ring slip off more easily.

The feeling of fullness disappears in an instant, you are left looking down at a chess piece man no larger than yourself, looking at you with eyes filled with fear and horror. You jump up and he does too, though his feet don't remain on the ground for too long. The last thing he sees is your fist getting into contact with his face, and he's falling back a good few meters away from you. Out cold. K'OD.

You put the ring on your finger, feeling it do nothing to your insignificant human body. It's the safest place you can keep it before you're able to dispose of it. You're sore, in pain, unsatisfied, but for the first time in forever you actually feel a little less sad, a little more good.

You pull on your shirt. As you predicted, you couldn't find your panties. No matter, you had plenty more. You couldn't wait to get home and wash the disgusting everything from your person.

Before you zap away, you hear... muffled sobbing? Coming from...

You follow the sound and look under a ruined construction piece, a part of a former building similar to the one you were sitting on a while ago. A white chess piece child is sitting curled up, knees to his chest and head hidden down. You mutter out a soft "Hey!" and its head shoots up. The expression on the tear-stained face of the chess child lights up as it manages to recognize you as one of the heroes. The only one of the heroes that made it. How this little individualsurvived in the presence of Jack, you will never know. But you were glad it did as you stretched out your hand and it grabbed it with such enthusiasm, cheerfully wiping the tears from its face.

There was no fear anymore, no other enemy to worry about. You zapped away, and before you knew it..

You were already there.

**Author's Note:**

> I should probably stop apologizing at the end of my fics because I honestly never mean it. So here, have this clusterfuck of events.


End file.
